Le Morte DAragorn
by Julie and Riki
Summary: A heavy AU, telling the tale of Aragorn and Eowyn, King and Queen of Gondor.
1. The Sun Shines

Prologue: The Sun Shines

Stained with blood the last battlefield of Middle Earth is. Never in all my days did I dream of standing on the final field of war. I am surrounded by the dead and dying of this battle, and the haunting cries of the wounded tear at my heart. My sword glistens with blood, the blood of former allies. Indeed, I did not expect this battle to be fought.

I cry helplessly, not for my enemies, nor my own painful wounds, but for a man who lies but a few feet before me. His bearded face is pale, his silvery eyes glazed over in mortal pain. His breathing is short, desperate, and every breath is a battle in itself. His chest is crimson red; his wounds are far more grievous than mine. One greying hand weakly grasps a brilliant sword darkened with the blood of his former friends. The other is held by a beautiful woman, skin fairer than the white clouds of summer, hair as golden as the sun rising in the morning. Her blue eyes are filled with sadness, and her crystal tears slowly slide down her fair cheeks to land on the dying face of her husband.

"Boromir," the dying man rasps, blood trickling down his chin. His time draws near.

"Yes, my lord?" I say, wiping the tears from my eyes. My king needs me to be strong. He murmurs something, too softly for my ears to perceive. I kneel next to him.

"You must take Anduril," he whispers again.

"Nay, my lord! You will live-" I exclaim, but he silences me.

"You must!" he insists. "Gondor will fall without a ruler." He grabs my hand, and places it on Anduril's hilt.

"I declare you Steward of Gondor, and of all land gained in this foolish war. Give this sword to my son, when he is old enough to hold it. Boromir, please… please take care of Eowyn. I love her so." His last words are soft, but filled with love and pain.

"Aragorn, I am here. I am here, my lord." Eowyn grips his hand tighter.

"Eowyn?" His eyes shift to look upon the queen's tear-stained face. He smiles, as if seeing her for the first time. "Why do you not smile, my love?"

"Because I have failed you, my lord, and you pay the price for my failure," she says softly, her voice choked with sorrow as her tears increase.

"Nay, Eowyn. You have… you have not failed me. Smile for me, my love. I have not seen the sunshine for an age, it seems." Eowyn smiles, and strokes her husband's hair gently.

"Ah, my Eowyn. I can feel the sun now, warm upon my face." She bends down, and softly kisses him. His hand, grasping my own and Anduril, slips to the ground lifelessly.

"Aragorn?" I call out, a tear falling down my face. Eowyn lifts her head, and realizes what has happened. Aragorn is dead.

Oh, Aragorn. How we loved you. You were champion of Men, the scourge of our enemies. No man, Elf, or any other creature, could defeat you in a battle of swords. But your heart was conquered. Not by sword or spear, but by the singular beauty of the woman who now mourns for you.

She weeps for you now, Eowyn, the Wraithslayer, the Ice Maiden, the captor of your heart, and the woman who brought Middle Earth to its knees.


	2. The Lords of Gondor Return

Chapter I: The Lords of Gondor Return

It was about seven years ago, when the fall of Aragorn began. The army of Men and Elves had just returned from Ithilien, victorious. Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor had been vanquished, and his cursed Ring destroyed.

I walked off the battlefield with Aragorn at my side. Both of us were covered in dark Orc blood, but we both grinned happily, the thrill of war still within us.

"Do you think Frodo and Sam are still alive?" I asked, wiping my bloodied blade on the ground.

"I hope so." The smile disappeared as Aragorn turned his gaze to the silent lands of Mordor. Neither of us had seen the Hobbits since Aragorn, Legolas Greenleaf, the Gimli the Dwarf, Meriadoc Brandybuck, Peregrin Took, and myself had escorted them to the edge of Mordor.

"Do you think I was wrong letting them go alone?" Aragorn asked, his face filled with worry.

"Gondor needed your help, my lord." Gondor had indeed needed his help. My father, may Denethor's tortured soul find rest, driven by senseless greed, had attempted to make peace with Sauron. In his mind, he had thought that Sauron would end the war in an exchange for a large piece of Gondor.

Fortunately, Aragorn anticipated that Sauron would agree to the terms, take the land, and then destroy what was left of Gondor. He quickly reclaimed his throne. Denethor, knowing that his actions would have bitter consequences, namely imprisonment for the rest of his life, took his own life before anyone could apprehend him.

"I am certain that Gandalf and his eagles reached them in time."

"I truly hope so," the king replied softly. "Where are Legolas and Gimli?"

"Still on the battlefield, I believe." In hopes to cheer him, I added, "They are counting the bodies of the enemy slain. I fear Gimli has won again." Aragorn smiled. The two companions, ever since the first battle at Parth Galen, had been in a contest of who could kill more Orcs. Gimli had won by one corpse at Parth Galen, which had deeply disturbed the Elvish prince.

"And what of your brother? I heard rumours he was on the battlefield." At this, my mind froze.

"Faramir, m-my lord?" I asked slowly, stuttering. Aragorn nodded. "I have not seen my brother since I left for the Council meeting at Rivendell. If he was here, he is surely gone by now."

_Or dead_, the I thought bitterly.

"If you see him, please invite him back to the city. He is most welcome there."

"I am certain he will come. Now that my father is gone." Not long after I had departed from Gondor, Denethor had banished Faramir, and all men loyal to him. "My lord, I should like to search the battlefield for my brother." Aragorn frowned.

"Nay, Lord Boromir. I have already asked Legolas to search for your brother. Come, friend. Tonight you and I shall enter the gates of the White City, with happiness in our hearts and the joy of victory upon our lips. Do not trouble yourself. Faramir lives."

"How can you know?" I asked, looking into the horizon. Smoke still rose from the quiet battlefield.

"My heart tells me he is well. And that he will return to Gondor, in his own time. Until then, let us drink and be merry."

The Hall of Kings was filled with laughter, music, and much drinking. I must admit that I had consumed far too much alcohol that night, and was readily intoxicated as I spoke with Aragorn. Aragorn drank no more than a few sips of the ale, and remained sober the majority of the night.

A few hours after our return, Gandalf returned with his Eagles and two little Hobbits, unconscious but alive. Their faces were black with soot, their hair slightly singed, and Frodo seemed to be missing a finger, but other than that, the two were fine. Frodo was left to sleep, while Sam, after much convincing, decided to join in the merriment of the Hall of Kings.

The Hall of Kings was a large, multi-roomed building at the base of the White Tower of Ecthelion, used for large meetings and celebrations. My parents, Finduilas and Denethor, had been wed in this hall, as had my grandparents. The feast following Aragorn's official coronation, which would take place in a matter of weeks, was also to be held there.

But such thoughts were far from my mind that night. I was only concerned with the amount of ale left in my cup.

"It is good to drink again," I said, taking a long sip of the ale. Aragorn smiled.

"It is good to be here again," he replied. "I have not sat at ease in the Hall of Kings for many years." I nodded, then took another drink, draining my cup.

"Hullo!" A loud call caught our attention. They turned and caught sight of Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took standing on top of a table, reeling slightly, large mugs of ale in their small hands. The two waited until every man and woman in the room had silenced before they spoke.

"It is customary in the Shire to have a song sung while celebrating. Does anyone wish to sing?" Merry asked, a wide drunken grin upon his face.

"Sing a song for us, Halfling!" A young man shouted from the far end of the hall. The man's shout was met with many cheers of agreement. Merry and Pippin bowed, Pippin nearly falling off the table.

"Sam!" Pippin called. "Come, sing with us! Sing one for your Rosie!" Sam, who had been quietly drinking in a corner by himself, blushed bright red.

"Yes, sing one for your Rosie!" I repeated the shout, though I had not even the slightest idea who his Rosie was at the time.

Sam quietly clambered up the table and stood next to Merry, his face still red. He whispered something into Merry's ear, who in turned smiled and nodded.

"Master Samwise has suggested we sing 'Here's a Health to the Company!'" Pippin's eyes lit in recognition of the song. The Gondorians began to clap, certain that anything the Hobbits sang would be a delight to hear.

"_Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme  
Come lift up your voices in chorus with mine  
Come lift up your voices, from grief we'll refrain  
For we know not when we will all meet again._

_Here's a health to the company and one to my lass  
We'll drink and be merry all out of one glass  
We'll drink and be merry from grief we'll refrain  
For we know not when we will all meet again._

_Here's a health to the dear lass that I love so well  
Her face and her beauty there's none can excel  
There's a smile on her countenance as she sits on my knee  
There is none in this whole world as happy as me._

_Here's a health to the company and one to my lass  
We'll drink and be merry all out of one glass  
We'll drink and be merry from grief we'll refrain  
For we know not when we will all meet again._

_Our march leads us homebound, down an olden trail_

_So we make our farewells with a good glass of ale_

_And if I should meet you by land or by sea  
I will always remember your kindness to me._

_Here's a health to the company and one to my lass  
We'll drink and be merry all out of one glass  
We'll drink and be merry from grief we'll refrain  
For we know not when we will all meet again!_"

Wild applause followed the song, and soon the Hobbits began to sing another song, this one focusing on an inn in the Shire. I followed the song for a bit, but when I glanced at Aragorn, I saw my king's face was solemn.

"What's wrong, my lord?" I asked, momentarily sobered by his expression. Aragorn did not respond.

"Do you not like their song?"

"Here's a health to the dear lass that I love so well," he repeated. I at first thought he was toasting, and in consequence raised my glass, but my companion did not lift his own.

"Have you ever wanted a woman?" He asked me, and the question caught me off guard. Aragorn never spoke of women or love, and he rarely ever did after that night.

"I suppose not," I replied after a moment.

"Would you ever marry?"

"I suppose," I said, once again startled. "No woman's ever wanted me."

"If you ever did decide to marry, what would you look for in a woman?" Aragorn asked, his grey eyes filled with uncertainty.

"I don't know." Then after a thought, I added, "She would be pretty, I guess. And gentle. Sweet, but at the same time, strong. I really don't know, Aragorn. Why do you ask?" Aragorn took a large sip of ale before speaking.

"I am to be wed."

"You?" I said in shock. He nodded grimly. "To whom?"

"Arwen Undomiel, the daughter of Lord Elrond." I raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"An Elf?" Aragorn nodded.

"They say she is beautiful, more beautiful than all the stars in the heavens. But I do not love her."

"Why not?" I asked, for my drunkenness had left me without tact.

"I have never met her. Yet Elrond says that I will love her. He has foreseen the joyful union," Aragorn said sourly. "I do not understand why he would ask his own daughter to sacrifice her own immortality for my sake."

"Perhaps she wants to," I suggested, and frowned at his empty glass. A young woman quickly refilled it, smiling at me. I returned the smile, and she blushed.

"Why would she! She doesn't even know me!" Aragorn countered, frustrated. I was too interested in the oddly blushing maiden to console my friend.

"You have a quite a ruddy face, girl," I said, complimenting the maiden's ruby face. She however, found my attempt insulting and rushed away.

"Women!" I snorted, and took a long drink. "You try to tell them they're beautiful, and they run away! That is why I'll never marry!" I slammed his glass down on the table angrily.

"Contradictory, confused little flowers! They have as much purpose for themselves as…" I stopped, realizing I had rudely ended conversing with Aragorn. "Forgive me, my lord, it seems I-"

"You are quite forgiven, dear Boromir," Aragorn said, smiling. "At the moment I am inclined to agree with you. Women do not know what they want."

"Yes. You just watch that Arwen Abominable. She'll-"

"Undomiel," Aragorn corrected.

"Yes, Arwen Indomitable. She'll act as if she's loved you all her life, but after two weeks of marriage, she'll be begging her father to take her to the Havens. Mark me, she will."

"A toast then," Aragorn said. I lifted my glass. "To the joy of bachelorhood. May you always revel in its splendour."

"And may you find it two weeks after your marriage." We laughed and drank. Soon another toast was made, and a long series of toasts began. We toasted to victory, friends, the mighty Men of Gondor, all Men, and after many, many more toasts we eventually began toasting to Legolas' hair, Elrond's circlet, Gimli's beard, and my horse's tail. By then, both the king and myself were far too intoxicated to stand, much less return to our quarters without aid. So the toasts continued, and became far too vulgar for any decent creature to hear when, much to our reputation's relief, passed out from complete inebriation. Later, I was told, Gimli and Legolas returned from the battlefield (Legolas the much disputed victor) and carried us to our quarters, where we awoke to massive headaches followed by much vomiting and embarrassment.

As pathetic as it may be, that night was one of the happiest nights in my life. It was a night where all complications that life had thrust upon had melted away. I have always craved simplicity. Perhaps it is because I have the heart of a soldier, who cares not for the reasons of war or love, but only for the thrill that war and love can bring.

That night was the last night of simplicity. The years that would follow were those where the truth was no longer simple, and where the call of a man's heart could no longer be trusted.


	3. The Warning

Chapter II: The Warning

Two days passed without much excitement. The dead were buried, the wounded either became healthy or died, there was no news of Faramir, and Aragorn grew grim. The thought of his upcoming marriage did not sit well with him.

Aragorn had always been the very emblem of freedom. He had been a Ranger for years, ruled by no man but himself, his path dictated only by the weather, his sword bound only to his own defence. Never once in his life had he been bound to a maiden by duty or love.

But everything had to change. Aragorn had reclaimed his throne, and to promote peace between Men and Elves, would agree to marry Lord Elrond's beautiful daughter Arwen.

"When will the marriage take place?" I asked him once. The mirth in Aragorn's eyes dimmed, for he hated to discuss the subject. We were in the king's study, sharing a drink.

"A week before my coronation. They want Arwen to become Queen beside me."

"They, my lord?" I inquired.

"Lord Elrond, Lord Celeborn, and Lady Galadriel. They have been planning this for years apparently. I still cannot believe they would do such a horrible thing to Lady Arwen." Aragorn's bitter mood tainted his words.

"Will they be coming to Gondor to witness your marriage?"

"No. They want the marriage to be held in Rivendell. They say Arwen requested it, but I believe Elrond wanted to have the wedding there."

"Why?"

"So that I can only bring a few of my men. Just in case I decide to leave before the wedding."

"And do you plan to depart prematurely?" Aragorn smiled bitterly.

"It is tempting. But no, I will not leave. Peace is more important than my happiness." Aragorn leaned back in his chair, taking a small sip. "Can you imagine it, Boromir? After an age of war and darkness, we can achieve full and everlasting peace with one marriage. Think of it, Boromir! Indeed, peace is far more important."

"Peace," I said quietly, staring into my goblet. "I have not known peace in a long time."

"He will return, Boromir," Aragorn said reassuringly. I nodded faintly, and swirled the red wine about in the goblet, trying to recall my brother's face. I could only remember his eyes, the deep grey eyes that had always been quick to sparkle with delight when I had been near. Faramir had always had a deep admiration for me, one that I could not understand. Perhaps it was merely because I loved him and expressed that love whereas his father, who had loved him deeply as well, could not.

"So much has changed since we last saw each other," I murmured. "So much for the better." A pang of guilt pierced me as I spoke the words. I did indeed grieve for my father, but by his death my brother was now free.

"Yes, much has changed for the better, Boromir." I nodded and watched my king's eyes.  Never on any other creature's face have I seen such eyes. They could hold such emotion, such passion. Looking into Aragorn's eyes was like peering into his soul. Though he could always keep a stern, detached visage no matter what was happening around him, his eyes would always reflect the inner turmoil within him.

I watched sadly as Aragorn smiled and sipped his wine, his eyes filled with the torment of a man that was caught between the needs of others and the desires of himself.

Three days later, Aragorn, fifty soldiers, and myself set off for Rivendell. It was a strangely quiet journey, for most of the men had never gazed upon an Elf, much less an Elven kingdom.

No one knew the purpose of this great outing, except that Aragorn had important business with Lord Elrond. Stories circulated, as they always did. Soon it came to my ears that some men believed we were travelling to Rivendell to prevent a war between Men and Elves. I quickly put an end to that rumour, though I myself began to wonder if that was the purpose of Aragorn's marriage to Arwen. He had spoken of the marriage as if it would not only assure peace but also heal a rift between Aragorn and Lord Elrond.

I knew that Aragorn has spent many years with Elrond after the death of his father. I had always assumed the two had been close, but as our destination grew closer and Aragorn's anxiety and irritation increased, I began to doubt my original theory.

After a few days travel, we reached the country of Rohan. I was not at all impressed by the first villages we passed by, of course, I had not known at the time that only months before those villages had been utterly destroyed by Orc raiders dispatched by the late Wizard Saruman.

We reached Edoras, the fortress where King Theoden sat on his throne. Aragorn had chosen to visit the king to thank him for sending a large force of men, both spearmen and horsemen, to Gondor's aid during the Battle of Pelennor Fields.

Theoden was tall and thin, with blonde hair finely dusted with old age. He had sharp, hawk-like features. If any man had the look of a seasoned warrior, it was he.

"King Theoden, I humbly thank you for your support in the past war. Gondor greatly needed and appreciated your men." Theoden smiled as Aragorn bowed his head in recognition.

"It is not only I who deserves your thanks."

"Lord?" Aragorn asked, caught off guard.

"Lord Eomer and Lady Eowyn also led the men. They have not returned yet. Do you plan to stay long?"

"I'm afraid I have pressing business with Lord Elrond."

"I see. And does this business involve Lady Arwen?"

"Indeed."

"I had guessed as much. Elrond sent word to me of your approaching marriage. I have been invited to a banquet in Lady Arwen's honour, but have not received an invitation to the wedding."

"You are invited to attend," Aragorn replied.

"I accept your invitation. I will depart as soon as Lord Eomer and Lady Eowyn return. You have not yet met my sister's children, have you?"

"No, Lord King."

"Eowyn will be delighted to meet you. She admires your acts greatly." Theoden smiled again.

"I will be honoured to meet her," Aragon said. I glanced at him, looking into his eyes, and was surprised to see true interest. Theoden also recognized that interest, for his grin grew broader.

"Some call her the Shieldmaiden of Rohan. Others call her the Wraithslayer. Have you heard of her acts at Pelennor Fields?"

"I have not," Aragorn answered.

"She saved my life. I was attacked by the Witch King of Angmar, and was dreadfully wounded. Eowyn stepped between myself and the mightiest servant of Sauron and with a terrible cry and struck him down."

"She is a great warrior indeed," Aragorn murmured.

"Ah, but her strength and skill cannot compare to her beauty. She is the Star of Rohan. Her hair is more golden and vibrant than the sun, her skin paler than the tusk of an oliphaunt. But it is her eyes that are truly captivating. You will never see such sapphire eyes again, Aragorn. Many a man have gazed into those azure eyes and have lost their hearts in doing so."

"Has she lost her heart to someone?" Aragorn asked quietly.

"Perhaps," Theoden replied, his blue eyes growing uncertain. "When we last spoke, she told me of a mighty man she saw on the battlefield, and described him so wonderfully to me that I wondered if she had seen a man or a higher creature."

"Do you intend to arrange her marriage?" My king asked. I glanced at him, surprised at his prying. Aragorn was not the sort of man to ask such questions.

"Indeed not! Eowyn has an independent spirit. If I chose a husband for her, why she'd run off with a simple soldier just to spite me. And she could do it easily. Half the men of Rohan are in love with her. Oh, forgive me, Aragorn. I have taken too much of your time. Please, rest your men here tonight. I have food prepared for all."

"Thank you, Lord King," Aragorn said politely. "I should like to retire."

"Of course. Hama, escort King Aragorn to his quarters." As soon as the two left, Theoden turned to face me. His previously happy grin was replaced by a troubled frown.

"Beware, Lord Boromir."

"Lord King?" I asked, caught off guard.

"Trouble is brewing in Rivendell. Lord Elrond has been very angry with Aragorn ever since Aragorn left Rivendell those many years ago. You king thinks that by marrying the Evenstar he will achieve peace and friendship. And that may be so, but…"

"But what?" I asked.

"If anything goes wrong, the peace between Men and Elves will not last. They have looked down upon us since our creation. They used to believe we were weak and insecure, but our victory over Sauron has worried them. They are beginning to see our strength. They are beginning to feel threatened."

"Are you suggesting the Lord Elrond will start a war?"

"I cannot be certain, of course. But watch, Lord Boromir. Watch and be wary."


End file.
